


Clowns or Kisses

by deanandsam



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 11.07, Comforting Dean, Episode Tag, Light Wincest, M/M, Scared Sam, sam and dean - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-19
Updated: 2015-11-19
Packaged: 2018-05-02 09:58:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5244092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deanandsam/pseuds/deanandsam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(I really loved this episode 11.07, so I just had to scribble a tag.<br/>Dean knows how to comfort his baby brother.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Clowns or Kisses

While there were a vast number of reasons why Sam and Dean Winchester could be considered very different from your run-of-the mill humans, there was one thing they had in common with the rest of the world.  
In their heart of hearts, like everyone else, each had an overwhelmingly irrational fear of something or someone.  
For the elder Winchester it was flying, for Sam it was clowns.

So the moment the younger Winchester was informed that not only was there a bunny mask, but an entire wardrobe of stage costumes, a cold thrill of terror raced through him.  
A clown costume was one of the most common ones around and the mere idea that he might be forced to see, touch or tackle someone dressed in it, made Sam tremble.

The logical part of his mind chided him for his fear of what was only a human dressed up in a multi-coloured suit, complete with a ridiculous curly wig and white make-up, but Sam's lizard brain reminded him how scary and creepy clowns were, and how they spirited you away to torture you with their very presence. 

 

When the inevitable moment arrived, just as Sam had been certain it would, and he saw his worst nightmare step into the elevator, he was afraid his heart would flat-line there and then.

The clown's mask had to be one of the most frightening he'd ever seen, not even the bloody knife clasped in the man's hand could distract his attention from the horror that filled his vision.

He stood hypnotised, unable to move, like a rabbit snared by the stare of a swaying cobra. He took an instant to close his eyes and banish the grimacing mask from his sight, calling on all of his courage to do what he must, render the abomination harmless.

When his hand came in contact with the clown, he could feel the bile rising, the revulsion causing his stomach to rebel, but he was a hunter and he had a job to do.

 

Later, when they'd finished off the ghost and taken their leave of Donna, the brothers slid into the Impala.  
Sam gave Dean an elusive glance from under his eyelashes. He fully expected his big brother to make a joke about the clown, to bait him for his fear, instead Dean put the Impala into drive, only to draw into the road-side when they were a good few miles out of town.

“You okay?” he asked his shaggy-haired sibling.  
Sam shrugged. They were both aware he wasn't. The fight with the object of his deepest fears had taken a lot out of the younger man.

 

Dean slid along the bench seat until his thigh grazed Sam's, his arm circling his little brother's shoulder.  
“You need some TLC, Sammy boy, “ he said, his face devoid of any teasing, his expression sympathetic. “C'mere.”

Gently he raised Sam's chin and nuzzled his cheek, until his sibling turned his face full towards him. With a fond twinkle in his eye, Dean caught Sam's lips with his own, plying them with little kisses until Sam began to respond, kissing him back.

Dean sometimes wondered if the sensations Sam felt when they made love were the same as his own. He hoped they were. He needed to know that Sam received the same joy and satisfaction from their relationship as he did. 

 

He drew back to study his sibling  
“You feeling better now, princess?” Dean asked, careful to keep his expression neutral.  
”Yeah, “ Sam replied. And it was true. Dean's kisses were akin to some magical elixir that instantly lifted his melancholy.

“Come on, then, “ Dean told him, moving back behind the wheel, “Snuggle up while I drive. When we get back to the bunker, I'll prescribe the Dean Winchester 'cure for all ills'.”

Sam snorted as he settled his head on Dean's shoulder. 

“My room or yours, “ he teased, the encounter with the clown no longer foremost in his thoughts. 

“Dude, don't tell me you've forgotten our arrangement! Monday, Wednesday and Friday, you're my guest, Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday, I'm yours. Sunday, free for all," Dean grinned, giving the Impala gas.

The End.


End file.
